


Angel Dates and Clay Snakes

by witchy_teacup



Series: Days of Our Wives [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale actually sells books in this one, F/F, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Flirting, Flirty Aziraphale (Good Omens), Flirty Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Ineffable Dates, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Lunch Dates, She/Her Pronouns for Aziraphale (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), The bookshop, pottery class, they're lesbians harold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchy_teacup/pseuds/witchy_teacup
Summary: It's Azira's turn to plan a date, so she sets up what she hopes will be a fun, new experience for the two of them, a pottery class.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Days of Our Wives [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682485
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	Angel Dates and Clay Snakes

Azira tugged on her golden waistcoat and straightened her bow tie. She ran a hand through her hair and gave herself a final once over in the mirror. She muttered to herself, “Buck up, old girl, Toni has made it perfectly clear that she likes you. No need to be nervous.”

She sighed and slipped out of her flat, locking up behind herself before slipping downstairs and opening the shop for the day. She helped a few college kids find texts for their classes, helped a few older ladies find new romances for their book clubs, and gave her opinion on which of Shakespeare’s plays the part-time director of a local community theater group should choose for their next production.

At ten til one, the bell over the door chimed and a thin teenager with thick glasses and neatly parted brown hair came in with an old leather satchel slung across his chest. She smiled brightly and said, “Good afternoon, Wendsleydale.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Fell,” he said shrugging out of the slightly too large tweed blazer he was wearing to hang it on the coat rack by the door. “How are you today?”

“I’m well, and yourself? How did your test—what was it again—economics?”

“Statistics. It went alright. I passed at least,” he said with a shy smile as he stowed his bag under the counter that held the register.

“Congratulations, my dear,” she said with a proud smile. She remembered how frazzled he’d been last week when he’d been studying for that test. She switched out her cardigan for a pale cream trench coat. “Now, you’re sure you’ll be alright while I’m gone?”

“Yes, ma’am. If I have any questions, I’ll call you,” he said, his serious demeanor at odds with his youth. 

“Alright, if you’re sure you’ll be okay, I believe that’s my date,” she said beaming as a gleaming black Bentley pulled up to the curb outside.

Wendsleydale’s eyebrows went up as he watched the leggy redhead climb out of the classic car. “Way to go, Ms. Fell!” he said, youthful enthusiasm lighting up his face and making him look properly his age. “That car is absolutely brilliant.” He blushed when Azira gave him an amused glance. “And the redhead’s pretty too,” he added shyly.

“I think so too,” she said with a smile as Antonia opened the bookshop’s door and sauntered in.

“Think what, Angel?” she asked as she hung her sunglasses on the bodice of the short black sundress she was wearing. 

“I was just agreeing with Wendsleydale here that both you and your car are beautiful specimens,” she said with a cheeky smile, checking her pockets to make sure she had everything she needed.

Antonia gave the blushing college kid a wry smile and cocked a hip. “My great-grandmother made my grandfather buy the Bentley for her in 1926. She’s been in the family ever since. You like cars?”

Wendsleydale smiled and said, “I like machines. I’m studying to be an engineer.”

Antonia folded her arms and gave him an appraising look. “I wouldn’t mind letting you take a look at her sometime. We’ve kept her in tiptop shape for nearly a century.”

“That’d be brilliant, Ms. Crowley. Thank you!”

“No problem, kid. Now, Angel, you ready to go?”

“Yes, my dear.”

==

“A pottery class?” Antonia asked as Azira stopped in front of a shopfront displaying a pottery wheel. 

“I thought it might be nice to try something new, you know, together,” Azira said with a bright smile. “Plus, they’ll glaze and fire the bowls or vases or whatever we end up making, so we’ll have a permanent souvenir to remind us of this.”

“That’s adorable. You’re adorable, Angel.”

“Thank you, my dear. Shall we?”

“Course.”

They went inside and Azira hung up her coat and waistcoat in the locker the shop provided while Antonia checked them in with the instructor. 

Azira started rolling up her sleeves as the instructor, who gave her name as Grace, handed Antonia two clean aprons and said, “When you’re ready, just come on back. My partner is just setting up the appetizers and the wine. We’ll be getting started in about five minutes.”

“Thanks,” Antonia said with a brief bland smile. She turned and offered Azira one of the rolled up aprons. Her eyes widened at the sight of Azira. “Wow...”

“What’s the matter, my dear?”

“Nothing’s the matter, Angel. You just look amazing. All buttoned up and yet partially unwrapped...just perfect,” she said with a lazy grin.

Azira suppressed a smile and lightly hit her arm with her rolled up apron. “Come on, you wily serpent.”

Azira pulled the apron over her head and tied a neat bow at the curve of the small of her back while Antonia crossed the apron strings behind her and tied an uneven bow in front of her. “Why do you call me that? Don’t get me wrong, Angel, I like it. I’m just curious.”

Azira gave her a shy smile and said, “You call me ‘angel’ and you have that snake tattoo and you’re the most tempting individual I’ve ever met...”

Understanding dawned in Antonia’s bright eyes as she connected the dots she’d laid out. “Like the Garden of Eden? Oh, Angel, you are a romantic sap aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?”

“I like it,” Antonia said with a surprisingly soft smile.

“Good. Now, I believe we have nibbles waiting for us.”

“Sure thing, Angel.”

==

Three weeks later, Outside A. Z. Fell & Co.

“Angel, I refuse to believe mine was so ugly. They must have switched it with someone else’s.” Azira started laughing as Antonia tilted her bowl, which admittedly was wonky, looking for the curly impression of a serpent that she’d signed hers with. “I’ll be damned. It is mine! They must have dropped it—I swear it wasn’t so ugly when I gave it to them.”

Azira just kept laughing. She pulled a lace-edge handkerchief from the sleeve of her soft brown cardigan and swiped at her eyes.

“Oh and yours came out so much better?” Antonia said with a petulant pout, slouching against the Bentley.

Azira finally found her voice. “I like the color you chose,” she offered.

Antonia rolled her eyes and said, “That’s not enough to redeem it.”

Azira chuckled and said, “I like it, really. It’s charming.”

“If it’s so charming, then trade me.”

Azira beamed up at her and said, “Really? You’d want to have something I made in your flat? Even if it is a bit wonky?”

Antonia registered the depth of the emotion on Azira’s face as she asked that question. She took a deep breath and gently took her hand. “I’d love it.”

“Good because I’m in love with your cockeyed, bright blue bowl,” Azira said plucking the bright blue bowl out of her hands. She clutched it to her chest protectively and gestured at the box the pottery shop had wrapped them in where it rested on the Bentley’s bonnet. “I hope my bowl won’t ruin your aesthetic?”

Antonia eyed the shallow, bright yellow bowl with its wavy rim, which Azira had insisted would give the impression of a sunflower. It was almost the polar opposite of her aesthetic, fussy and feminine and bright, just like Azira. She grinned and said, “Oh it’ll stick out like a sore thumb, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Every time I look at it, I’ll think of you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!  
> I hope this bit of fluff made you smile.
> 
> Stay safe, my dears!


End file.
